


go the fuck to sleep

by too_wise_to_woo_peaceably



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Sleepy Cuddles, exhausted people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 04:56:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11268378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/too_wise_to_woo_peaceably/pseuds/too_wise_to_woo_peaceably
Summary: an ask for the cuddle prompts #13 falling asleep





	go the fuck to sleep

**Author's Note:**

> an ask for the cuddle prompts #13 falling asleep

Cassian Andor does not blame other people for his problems.

 

Statistically speaking, when examining the personnel evaluations put forth by his superiors for themes and key traits, words like “loyalty”, “personal responsibility”, and “reliable” tend to crop up with a frequency that borders on ridiculous. Even his assets, often hardened and wary sentients from across the galaxy, ranging from the righteous to the self-serving, would have to agree that Cassian-by-whatever-name is at least trustworthy enough for their time despite the dangers posed.

 

Cassian Andor either directly confronts or cunningly circumvents obstacles that arrange themselves in his way. He scales literal and metaphorical walls to get the job done: ascending a sheer wall to infiltrate an impregnable Imperial communications hub; befriending a friend of a informant whose cousin’s lover is an Imperial Admiral and artfully receiving an invitation to a lavish party. He’s only been imprisoned once (and that it was a Partisan guerrilla leader and surrogate father to his current source of irritation does not escape him).

 

However -- none of those sentients is Jyn Erso, and therefore none of them is who he’s blaming for his current two-day bout of sleeplessness. Nor is this obstacle one he can face down directly, or maneuver around hypothetically.

 

Cassian Andor blames Jyn Erso’s absence for his current inability to sleep.

 

Cassian Andor blames Jyn Erso’s historically consistent presence in their bed for making it near impossible for him to fall asleep in their bed without her  _ right now _ .

 

Cassian Andor blames Jyn Erso and is exceedingly grumpy.

 

***

 

The shuttle Jyn Erso is about to disembark has been late to every point on it’s route base-wards. Minor delay at the Pathfinders rendezvous point because some bounty hunter recognized Solo before he could abscond with the data chip. (for that she wears bleeding knuckles and an aching side). Slight delay to double back and lose a tail. (more bruising due to some eccentric flight patterns). A trifling delay to find the tail’s still-working homing beacon, and trash it in the most treacherous side-alley, in the most unstable city, on the most dangerous planet in that system. (it earns a pounding headache and an exponential increase in irritation with sentient beings). A shortish delay to refuel after what should have been a two standard week Pathfinders expedition exceeds said time and distances by days and parsecs (she comes out with fewer credits than she started this expedition with and an unsavory favor to be paid at some point).

 

Needless to say, there is nothing she’d rather do at this point then get off the kriffing ship and crawl into bed beside Cassian (if he hasn’t already left for his next ‘trip’).

 

*** 

 

It need not be explained that the incandescence happiness found in reuniting with one’s loved one after an unexpectedly long absence can in fact be somewhat dimmed when both parties are exceptionally irritated and sleep deprived.

 

***

 

Jyn’s knuckles are still stinging as she stutters through typing their quarter’s access code. After the second failed attempt at putting in the right digits, her exhausted brain begins to take up the notion that the floor in front of the door is starting to look mighty fine. She tries one more time. It opens.

 

The only light comes from behind the ‘fresher’s slightly cracked opening. A quick glance at the bed -- he's still here, wrapped up tight. He flips over on his side, facing her now, kicking sheets and a sleepy huff. She's missed him. She'll hold him close after the ‘fresher.

 

Gritting her teeth, she shuts her eyes to acclimate. It wouldn’t do to trip over something in her exhaustion and break her neck before she even got to shower. This idea nearly proves counterproductive when she starts inadvertently swaying as she waits, dead on her feet.

 

At first the shower is tremendously helpful, she can feel the grime and aches begin to dissipate. It warms her skin and loosens tight muscles. But soon enough, her eyelids begin to droop again, and she’s blinking back sleep.

 

She towels off quickly, curses when she realizes she forgot to grab a change of clothes, shrugs it off with all the impatience of the sleep deprived, and shuffles half-blind to her side of the bed. The agitated murmuring and fidgeting finally clear some of the fog in her brain as she starts to climb into bed beside him. Apparently he wasn’t quite as asleep as she’d assumed because-

 

He’s bolting upright, blaster half raised, eyes wide and leaking exhaustion--

 

“What the kriffing hell, Cassian Andor,” she grunts, beyond irritated as she pushes the blaster barrel out of the way and sinks down into itchy sheets.

 

His eyes narrow dangerously. “You--”

 

She groans, “Cassian, I can not do this right now,” pulling his on nightshirt until he’s lying alongside her. “I’m fine. I love you. Go the fuck to sleep,” she mutters sleep-drugged against his chest, arms banded tightly around his middle, hands fisted in the back of his shirt, thigh thrown over his.

 

Even irritated as he was, he can’t help a small grin at her bad tempered, affectionate greeting. He holds her closer, slips his thigh between hers, cups her neck and gently kneading her spine.

 

_ then their breaths sync, then their hearts sync, then they fall asleep _

 

 


End file.
